All That I Have is Nothing
by Lady Raven Slaye
Summary: Slightly AU. Uotani Arisa doesn't lead the life her friends think she does. She lives a life of abuse. A life without love. But when her family begins to push her too far, can someone save her? UoXKyou, slight YukiXTohru


Authoress' Note: Yes, I have returned. I am taking a temporary hiatus on Speechless (should my one reader see this) and beginning this story of Uotani Arisa. It is slightly AU, Uo-chan's past is different from that depicted in the manga and anime. I hope you enjoy it, nonetheless.

And also let it be known that authoress is an actual word.

Please read on, I hope you enjoy my story.

Reminder: If two or three words are combined 'assuch', 'orassuch' the fault lies not with me but with the website and its QuickEdit 2.03 system.

WARNING: This fiction is rated PG-13 for mention of abuse and other mature themes. Nothing graphic will be depicted, however. There will be no lemons, or at least no particularly described lemons. If you are still interested in reading and are in a sound state of mind to deal with the content of this story, please read on.

Disclaimer: The characters and places represented in this story are the property of Natsuki Takaya, the ingenious mind behind the original graphic novel, _Fruits Basket_.

-X-

All That I Have is Nothing

Chapter One:

Being Right

Tohru smiled merrily at me as she walked up to us in the school hall. I envy her. No matter how many hardships she faces, that smile of hers never fades. She's the bravest person I know. Braver than me.

Hello, my name is Uotani Arisa. Everyone calls me "Yankee" at school. Most everyone avoids me because I'm hostile. They don't know why. I don't even think they care.

My friends think I'm living alone. In fact, everyone does. A sixteen year old girl living alone? I'm surprised Hanajima hasn't sensed my lie yet. No, I just tell everyone that. I don't live alone, and I don't live in an apartment. I live with my family. If you can call it that.

That's right, I have a family. A father and two brothers. Shouldn't I be happy? No. I can't remember the last time I was happy. They're happy. Happy to be so cruel and careless. I'm ashamed of my family, ashamed and afraid. Why? Because they're all the lead members of a famous Japanese gang.

See why I don't tell my friends about my family? I hate lying to Hanajima and Tohru, but I have no other choice. Sometimes they ask me if they can come over to my apartment, and I always tell them no. It sounds like I'm blowing them off. If it were only that simple.

My father's name is Yukio. Uotani Yukio. My father hates me, I know he does. He used to love me, but ever since my mother died... he's never accepted me. I can't even count how many times he's yelled at me "girls are weak!". "Why couldn't you be a boy!". "You don't belong here!". The words hurt even more than the blows.

Yes, he beats me. Daddy dearest beats me. The kicks me and punches me and pushes me around. He tells me what to do and makes me clean the house for hours. I cook for him every night, and I clean up after him. In his opinion, that's a "woman's job". And my brothers, they agree. They don't make it any easier. They turn a blind eye when he hurts me, and the only words they ever say to me are "clean this mess up, Uo". I'm not their little sister. I'm their slave.

My father even forces me to call him "Yukio-sama".

Sometimes I want to run away. Sometimes I want to kill myself. But then...

I think of Tohru. She's had a rough life too, but through thick and thin alike, she pulls through. I strive to be like her. Maybe she doesn't notice, but I do. I try to be optimistic. After all, I'm sixteen. In two years, I can legally move out. That is, if he lets me.

At school, I act so brave. But I'm not. Most people cower or become silent when I walk into the room, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't love every moment of it. I love how they fear me. This is my kingdom, this is the only place in the world where I have all the control. I hold the power. Yuki may be the 'prince' of this school, but I'm it's queen.

Everyone thinks I'm brave. Brave and careless. But all I really am is a coward. A weakling.

It was lunch. Hanajima, Tohru and I all stayed in the class like we usually did at breaks, and Tohru suggested we play Dai Hin Min again. Yuki-kun and Kyou-san both volunteered to join in. I think Yuki-kun feels an obligation of some kind to Tohru. I'm not sure, and I may not be psychic like Hanajima, but that's the feeling I get. I don't get that from Kyou-san though, so why does he always join in? He doesn't seem the sociable type.

"So, Yankee, you ready for a rematch?" Kyou-san asked. Ah, that would be why. I smirked and put on my brave front.

"Only if you're ready to lose again, Kyou-_baka_." I replied, smugness in my tone.

"What did you call me? That's it, you're going down this time!" I smirked again. We'd played Dai Hin Min more than eight times already, and he has never won a single match.

-X-

Once again, I had beaten Kyou-san. I don't know why, but whenever I play Dai Hin Min I'm instantly in a better mood. I suppose it's because of the competition.

The school bell rang and I grabbed my book bag and headed outside, Hanajima and Tohru catching up.

"Hey, Uo-chan! Do you want to do something on the weekend?" Tohru asked me, smiling as always. I smiled back as I thought about what Yukio-sama would say. He would say no, of course. I am never allowed out on the weekend. Never have been, never will be.

Once, I went for a sleepover with Tohru and Hanajima at the Sohma house. That night I snuck out, I couldn't listen to father's orders. I had to ensure Tohru's safety. I was beaten when I got home. I learned my lesson that night.

"No, I'm busy this weekend. Maybe next." I said through a false smile. That was always my answer. "Maybe next.". Just because I've got no hope doesn't mean they can't have any.

"Okay, next weekend it is!" Tohru replied. This was always her response. It wasn't so much a promise as a secret game we played. Tohru keeps me grounded. She's my safety blanket, in a way. My brothers. My father. They aren't my family. Tohru is.

Without her I don't know where I'd be.

I waved them away as I began my twenty minute walk home. I hated this walk, it gave me too much time to think. And with a life like mine, time to think is sometimes like time in hell. As much as I try to concentrate on something, keep my mind on something positive, it always drifts back to the negative. Today was no different.

I though of Yukio-sama. Before he became Yukio-sama. When he was just Yukio. When he was still my father. My real father. My dad.

He used to love me. He used to play with me and run with me and do many wonderful and happy things with me. Even with my brothers, the four of us would play until mother would call us back inside for dinner, and then we would go to play some more. Mother would smile and shake her head. She would read us stories and tuck us into bed at night.

I loved her. We all did, especially father. I never once heard them fight, and when they were together there was no seperating them. There's was a true, deep, undying love. One that broke all bonds. One I hoped I could one day have.

Mother, I'll never forget her. She was the most beautiful woman in the world, with long golden hair like silk and eyes as blue as the deepest, clearest ocean. Her smile spread happiness to everyone around her, and everyone she knew deemed her "a remarkable woman". Her name was Keiko, and she died when I was nine.

For awhile, my father was all right with her death. He was in mourning, sure, but he managed to pull through. But soon it all fell apart. He began drinking, staying out at bars and strip clubs until well past midnight. Sometimes, my brothers and I wouldn't even see him before we went to school.

One night, a week before my tenth birthday, he came home drunk. He staggered into the living room with a bottle of beer in his left hand and stared at me. I just sat there with my toys in front of me and stared back at him.

"Daddy?" I asked.

"What the fuck is this mess?" He demanded, his speech slurred due to the intoxication. I was afraid, my father had never swore in front of me before. Then he threw the bottle at me. It landed by my feet and shattered, spraying me with liquor and shards of glass. Frightened, I got up and tried to run up the stairs, to the safety of my room, but he grabbed my arm. "Clean it up!" He ordered.

"D-daddy... that hur-" And then, for the first time in my life, he smacked me. Across my left cheek, sending me spiraling onto the floor and landing elbows first into the shattered glass. Tears streamed down my face, I just didn't understand. Why was he doing this to me? Would he do it again? Hurriedly, I grabbed my toys and ran into my room, the sting from the blow to my face and from the cuts of the glass plagued me for weeks. I would cry every night and every day, at every chance I got.

But my heart was what hurt the most.

I'll never forget that night. But I still had hope. I told my brothers, and they confronted my father. Haruto-kun was twelve, and Kenji-kun was ten. Yukio-sama merely brushed them off. I listened from the top of the stairs, and the last strands keeping my heart together broke in that moment. The moment when he said:

"She's a girl. That's what they're there for." That's when I knew daddy was gone. Lost to his sorrow and his liquor, never to be again. Slowly, my brothers began to change too. For two years they tried to stop the beatings, then all of a sudden, they just stopped caring. I would yell for them, scream for them to help me. They just walked away. That's when my family died.

I slipped my key into the lock of my door and opened it as silently as I could. Father didn't have to be drunk to beat me anymore, just angry. Which he almost always was. The house could be as clean as could be, and he'd find a way to make it dirty again and yell at me for not cleaning it up. As always, I was right.

Father stood up from his chair and walked over to me, fury written across his features.

"Look at this mess! This place is a pig sty! Every night I tell you to clean, and every fucking morning it's exactly the same!" He raised his fist to strike me. I dropped my bookbag and closed my eyes.

I hate being right.


End file.
